


You've Been Terribly Rude

by CannibalCorruption



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibalism, Choking, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Drink Spiking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:28:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22719928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalCorruption/pseuds/CannibalCorruption
Summary: You are an artist who has left a less than positive impression on one of Hannibal's high-classed acquaintances. However, rudeness, especially towards you, can only be remedied in one way in the eyes of Hannibal Lecter.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter & Reader, Hannibal Lecter/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 181





	You've Been Terribly Rude

That night, I had a performance as a guest vocalist with an artsy band, as I did from time to time. My art would be projected behind the band as the songs were performed. I had only one song, however, of which I was glad. I liked performing but too long of a performance gave me anxiety. One song was enough for me that night. Now, the performance space was connected to a fine art gallery which occasionally showcased some of my work. I was still shocked they would be allowing my friend’s band to play a show in their performance space, which was usually reserved for avant garde performance or something of the like. But if they let noise bands perform there, I supposed it wasn’t strange to let us do so.

I touched up the last of my makeup and zipped up my leather jacket halfway over my spiky bra. That night, I couldn’t have looked more opposite of my boyfriend, Hannibal Lecter. He fell for my art, grotesque and gory as it was. Finding out his… unusual behaviors was a shock but hardly a deal breaker for me. Especially given his philosophy of eating the rude. That night, I was doing a performance that was specifically in line with “eat the rich,” but I was happy to include the rude in the implications in the song.

I had gotten a text from Hannibal saying he was there, so I went out to the main part of the gallery to greet him. He wore a red suit and was waiting for me in the center of the lobby. I rushed up to him, doing my best in my six inch heels. I latched onto his arm.

“Thank you so much for coming!” I told him happily. “You really didn’t have to – I know someone might see you here and… well, that would probably be weird for you.”

“Nonsense, I’m quite proud of you,” he assured. “I hope I do run into one of my stuck-up acquaintances, as a matter of fact. You know I like a good reaction.”

“That’s true,” I laughed. “Ok, well, I’m on soon, so I’m going to go backstage. You can stay at the back if you want. I’m just happy knowing you’re here at all. And I’d give you a kiss but you don’t want dark blue lipstick on your face.”

“How do you know that?”

I laughed. “Maybe later – and not just your face.” I swept off backstage, leaving Hannibal in the lobby. 

He looked around at some art and checked his phone, seeing it was nearly time for me to go on. He made his way toward the performance space.

“Hannibal?” a voice inquired from behind him. He turned around and saw a very skinny older woman who just oozed snobbery. She wore a strappy evening dress and a fur scarf.

“Eileen,” he greeted with a nod.

“I didn’t expect to run into you here,” Eileen stated, eying him up and down flirtatiously. “Here to see the new exhibit? It’s art by a friend of mine, you know.”

“I’m afraid I must have missed hearing about that,” he lamented politely. “I’m here to see a performance, actually.” He checked his phone. “I really must be going.”

“Well, it must be lovely if you’ve come out of your way to see it,” she commented. “I’ll join you to see what the fuss is about.” She grabbed onto his arm.

His mouth twitched almost into a smirk. “I must warn you, it is… different from whatever you’re expecting, Eileen.”

“Pish posh,” she brushed off. He nodded and led the way, opening the door for her and politely breaking away from her clutches.

They entered and Hannibal took a place at the very back of the room, Eileen standing next to him.

A moment later, the band silently came onstage, taking their places. The music started, an industrial metal piece, as skulls with moss growing out of them graced the screens. I took my place in the center and began the performance. I sang about class warfare and being unable to take much more. The song was scathing and I liked it that way. Hannibal smirked for the entire performance, occasionally glancing over to the horror on Eileen’s face as she plugged her ears. Images came on the screens of everything from strippers on thorny poles to intestines being used as currency. 

The song ended and I left the stage, leaving the band to perform the rest of the set instrumental, as planned. Hannibal and Eileen went into the lobby. For a moment, Eileen was stunned and hardly knew what to say.

“That… kind of rhetoric…” she managed, “is harmful, Hannibal. It’s harmful to people like us – in higher income standing. Those people are horribly jealous and taking it out on us, you know, for their laziness.”

“I must disagree,” he said respectfully. “I quite enjoyed it. It’s very different and quite refreshing in a day and age where art can be quite… what is the word… neutered.” Eileen just looked appalled. “Anyhow, I am quite the fan of the vocalist, as it were.”

Eileen rolled her eyes. “Well, as I try to erase that horrid experience from my mind, when is your next dinner party? I hope you haven’t abandoned all class in favor of some kind of punk rock… gang.”

Hannibal chuckled. “Hardly. Very soon, actually. Invitations will go out within the week.”

“Oh, good!” she exclaimed. “I suppose this vocalist girl who hates people like us will be invited, as per your newfound infatuation?”

“As a matter of fact, she will,” he told her.

Eileen laughed. “Still chasing the young ones, are you?”

“It would be rude for me to reveal her age, of course, but I assure you she is nowhere near as young as you’re implying.”

Eileen laughed, placing her hand on Hannibal’s arm. 

Just then, I walked up, fanning myself, but smiling politely.

“Hey,” I greeted him, “did you like the art on the screens? I specifically didn’t show you any of those pieces – I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“I certainly did,” he assured. “I quite enjoyed the performance as well. The genre might be different from what I usually consume but I always respect skilled artistry, wherever it is found.”

I smiled, then turned to Eileen. “Hi, sorry,” I said, holding out my hand. “I’m Y/N. Are you a friend of Hannibal’s?”

Eileen reluctantly shook my hand, looking as if she would scuttle off for some hand sanitizer as soon as possible. “Yes, I’ve known Hannibal for quite a long time, actually. Years.”

“This is Eileen,” Hannibal injected.

“Indeed,” Eileen confirmed curtly, “Hannibal says he’s having a dinner party at his home soon. I’ve been a guest of his many times. He tells me you’re to be invited.” She looked me up and down.

“Yeah, I should hope so,” I laughed. “I do live there.”

Eileen paused, looking shocked.

“Yes, I should apologize,” Hannibal intervened. “Y/N is my girlfriend.”

Eileen’s eyes widened. “You… would write a song like that… while dating someone so upper-class and prestigious? That kind of message is harmful – it incites class violence.”

I tried to hold back a grin. “I wouldn’t dare assume your financial standing but the message of the song is about very wealthy people ruining society by hoarding money and keeping everything for themselves like dragons while the rest of humanity suffers. I’m sure you would do no such thing.” I smiled politely.

Eileen managed a fake smile back and looked to Hannibal. “I’ll await that invitation, Hannibal. It was lovely to see you. And it was nice to meet you as well,” she added haphazardly toward me as she walked away.

“She seems fun,” I stated, amused.

“The upper-crust of society often are,” Hannibal told me with a smirk. “I do enjoy toying with them.”

A few weeks later, the dinner party rolled around. I was nervous but wasn’t completely unaware of how to act in a high-classed setting. I wasn’t going to go around preaching to deaf ears, anyway.

I smoothed out my dark red evening dress and prepared myself for the worst. At least Hannibal would be there. I wondered how he would act with so many other people around – people who would hardly be fond of someone like me and could probably smell my poor upbringing from a mile away.

The evening was going just fine and Hannibal was very openly introducing me as his girlfriend, unashamed of me being a starving artist. I was enjoying myself, actually, chatting with some interesting people towards the end of the party. Unfortunately, that’s when Eileen walked up and butted into the conversation, taking things over. She scolded me like a child for being a “gold-digger” and stealing Hannibal away from classy, high-society. I usually don’t take that kind of thing lying down but I didn’t want to do anything to embarrass Hannibal. And at the same time, the kinds of things she was saying were preying on my exact insecurities. From not being bone-skinny, to being low income, to being unrefined. 

I kept glancing around to see if I could spot Hannibal but he was turned around, speaking to another group of people. Eventually, I stayed speechless long enough that Eileen decided that I’d learned my lesson – that or she was bored with insulting me – and she walked off. I slipped off to the bedroom, furious, but feeling insecure at the same time. I sat down on the bed and started crying, and then I was angry about crying at all, letting that bitch win by getting to me. I tried to save my makeup by meticulously wiping tears away. 

After about ten minutes, Hannibal came upstairs and found me. He looked surprised, came over, and sat down next to me. He put his arm around me and took my hand with his free hand.

“What’s happened?” he asked, concerned. I choked back some tears and shook my head. “Please, my darling, I’d like to know.”

I paused, and then I got angry again. “That absolute bitch from the gallery came over to me and lectured me – like I was some kind of parasitic teenager, stealing money from you and ruining your life. I don’t really want to get any more into it than that.”

He paused, face stiff. He gave me a kiss on the cheek. “The party is ending, my dear, I must say goodbye to the guests. I shall tell them you aren’t feeling well. You relax and get ready for bed – the help and I will clean things up.” I nodded and he stood up, going back downstairs.

Later, I had calmed down a little and was more able to explain to Hannibal what happened. He comforted me patiently and told me not to worry about anything she said. He brought me some wine to help me fall asleep and I drained it, falling asleep quite soon afterwards.

The next day, I woke up feeling very groggy but shook it off and chalked it up to stress. I went about my day and went out to the gallery to take some new pieces in for a showing next week. I was stuck there until evening.

I came home that evening very hungry, looking forward to whatever Hannibal was making. I hung up my jacket and headed up to the bedroom to put my bags down. Hannibal was nowhere to be found. I put my bags on a chair and freshened up a bit, heading back downstairs to the kitchen. Suddenly, I found Hannibal bringing some plates covered by cloches out of the fridge and carrying them to the dining room. He wore a teal shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dress pants.

“Hey, baby,” I greeted. “What’s for dinner tonight?”

“You’ll see,” he called out from the dining room. 

I followed him in and found the table set with red wine. He uncovered the dishes to reveal elaborate plates of sashimi. I gasped and rushed over, sitting down.

“You know how much I love sashimi,” I said, smiling up at him. He sat down as well, at the end of the table, next to me. I looked over the meat. “Is this… Basashi?” I asked incredulously. “Isn’t that illegal in America?”

“Guess again,” he told me, looking pleased at this guessing game.

“It’s not Wagyu, is it?”

“It is not.”

I thought for a moment. “Oh, am I an idiot and it’s just some kind of fancy Maguro, or…?”

“You certainly aren’t an idiot and it isn’t Maguro,” he confirmed. “You’re thinking far too pedestrian.”

“Well, seeing as how I’m just common gutter trash fucking up your life…” I joked, laughing.

“Darling,” he warned. “I won’t hear that kind of talk.” I sighed. “Closer to pork, I suppose.”

Suddenly, it hit me. “So… that’s why I was groggy this morning,” I explained. “Every time you go out on one of your… adventures, you drug me.”

“It’s for your own good, you know,” he added. “I don’t want to disturb you.”

“There are other ways to not disturb me, Hannibal,” I told him, a bit frustrated. 

“You were very stressed,” he stated. “I felt that you could have woken up and perhaps worried about where I was.” 

“I know exactly where you go in the middle of the night.”

He shrugged, smirking.

“So, what’s the occasion?” I asked. “And what kind of specimen was this?”

“Someone who was terribly rude, I must admit,” he said. “And the occasion is an apology for how you were treated yesterday.”

My eyes widened. “Hannibal, that’s… isn’t that kind of irresponsible to go getting rid of someone you know? Who was last seen at YOUR dinner party?”

“Trust me,” he assured, “no one will suspect a thing. It won’t even look like a Ripper murder. I simply disposed of her in a place where a lot of animals would be more than happy to get rid of some evidence for me.”

“But I mean, they’ll still find something.”

“They cannot trace it back to us, rest easy,” he comforted. “People like her have many enemies.”

I thought for a moment. He was terribly clever and he was the one who was the professional serial killer and whatnot. I decided to let it go.

“Is there a reason you went for Long Pig Sashimi?” I asked, looking at the spread.

“I thought it would be more cathartic for you,” he explained. “Eating someone raw feels… quite powerful, I must say.” He pressed his leg up against mine under the table. I looked up at him. His eyes bored holes into mine. I smiled.

“Then, let’s eat this bitch.” I picked up my chopsticks and, dipping the meat into some sauce, placed it in my mouth and chewed; slowly at first, but as the taste filled my mouth, I couldn’t get enough. “It’s delicious.”

He smiled and tucked in as well. “It is all the rude have to offer us, my dear. We deserve it – and should never be sorry.”

We ate mostly in silence as many feelings washed over me. I felt powerful, like he said. I felt vindicated. I felt like I’d won. I also felt horribly turned on for two main reasons: the power trip I felt, as well as the feeling of having the one I love so viciously defend me. As Hannibal watched me, he could read me like a book. I picked up my wine and took a sip. As I set it back down, he placed his hand on mine, pulling it up and kissing me on my inner wrist. 

I was as red as a tomato at this point. “…Not that I don’t want to finish dinner but–”

“Patience, my darling,” he warned, rubbing his leg against mine. Cruel. 

I pouted but finished dinner properly. Only a few slices of meat remained.

“I’m stuffed,” I said. “That was, as usual, really excellent. Thank you, Hannibal.”

“My pleasure.” He stood up.

I stood up as well and went to grab a plate. “I’ll tidy this up–”

He cut me off with a passionate kiss. He pulled back and grabbed my hand, pulling me along as he went to head out of the dining room.

“That’s as long as my patience lasts,” he breathed.

“Mine, too,” I said, grabbing him by the hips and shoving him against the wall before we could get very far. 

I got down on my knees and scrambled to unbuckle his belt. I ran one hand up his leg, to his crotch, as I unzipped his pants with the other, pulling them down to mid-thigh. I traced my fingers along his length as he got harder. I teased him with a few kisses overtop his boxer briefs and, grunting, he buried his fingers in my hair. I pulled his underwear down as well as I slowly licked my way up his shaft. I trailed my fingers lightly along his testicles and worked on the head of his penis like a lollipop. I pushed his length into my mouth as far as I could take it. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and exhaled deeply.

“Did you enjoy feeling powerful at dinner?” he asked and I could only whine in response as I moved my head up and down on his cock. “Do you like having this power over me right now?” 

I pulled my head back and looked up at him. I smiled, lips still pressed against his tip. “Still playing psychiatrist?”

“I don’t play, my sweet,” he said, grabbing tight handfuls of my hair. “And did I say you could stop?”

“No, sir,” I replied with a smirk, going back to sucking him off. He rested his head back against the wall.

After a few moments, he spoke up. “Good girl.” He released my hair and put his hands on either side of my jaw. “Come and kiss me.” I stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. His tongue was elegant but vigorous. He pulled my shirt up and I moved back to let him remove it. I kissed him again as he undid my pants and I unbuttoned his shirt. We rushed to remove the rest of our clothing, stepping out of it and kissing again.

Suddenly, he spun me around, wrapping one arm around my waist, and moving the other hand up to wrap his fingers around my throat. My skin was heating up and my core was burning for him.

“Do you like when I take control of everything?” he asked, tightening his grip, his firm cock pressed up against my ass. His other hand moved up to squeeze my breasts and tease my nipples.

“Mm…” I whined in response.

“Well?” He squeezed my throat harder. I put my hands up and placed them over the hand he had on my neck.

I nodded as best I could. “Yes, sir,” I choked out. He let go of me and turned me back around to face him. 

“That’s my good girl.” He kissed me again, this time guiding me back toward the dining room table. 

Fortunately, except for the two place settings, wine, and the centerpiece, the rest of the table was bare and left plenty of room for us to do what we were about to do. He backed me up so that I was almost sitting on the table. He had one arm around me, resting on my back, and the other hand cradling my jaw, his thumb on my cheek. My arms were around his neck.

He pulled back just enough to speak. “And how, my darling, do you feel when I kill for you?” His lips brushed against mine as he spoke.

I paused and smiled. “I feel like a queen.”

He smiled as well. “That’s all I want – to treat you like a queen.” He kissed me softly. He then abruptly spun me around, bending me over the table. He placed one hand on my ass and grabbed onto my hair with the other, pulling my head back sternly. I stabilized myself with my forearms flat on the table.

He leaned down and spoke into my ear. “And to fuck you like a concubine.”

Smirking, he let go of my hair, my head snapping forward in release. He pushed my heels apart with his foot, spreading my legs, and ran his hands down my back, over my hips, and settled on caressing my ass. Goosebumps raised on my skin. He leaned down and trailed kisses down from my neck to the middle of my back. He then traced his tongue up my spine, running his hands up my sides and over to my breasts. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the perfume on my neck. He moved one hand up to rest on the side of my face, pushing his forefinger into my mouth. I twirled my tongue around it and sucked.

Then, with a sigh, he kissed my neck roughly, dragging his teeth along my skin, firm enough to scratch but not to cut. I whined through my nose, his finger still in my mouth, and reached back to place my hand on the back of his head. He swiftly landed a firm spank on my ass and my hand flew back to the table, to keep myself steady. His rough kisses trailed down my neck to my shoulder. I began to grind my hips against him, desperate and aching for his cock.

He pulled his finger out of my mouth and reached down to guide the head of his penis to my clit, sliding up and down on it easily, as I was dripping wet. I whined as I arched my back. Slowly, he pushed himself inside me. I gasped, my face burning hot as he filled me up with his length. 

I turned my head to look back at him, tossing my hair out of the way. However, on the way, my gaze was caught by the leftover meat on the other side of the table. I recalled the feeling of power and victory I felt earlier, and my pussy tightened around his cock.

I looked at him and he chuckled. “I’m glad that dinner pleased my queen.” He began slowly thrusting as he held onto my hips, driving me crazy. “And now she puts herself at the mercy of the king who hunts and conquers for her...”

I mewled at the sensation of feeling him deep inside of me. “Conquer me, Hannibal.”

He smirked and gradually began thrusting harder. With the force of his thrusts, I was knocked forward and I caught myself with my hands, arms folded under me. I struggled to keep myself from sliding forward on the table as he pounded into me. He put his hands under my hips, gripping me tightly, then proceeded to lift me up slightly off the ground so he could thrust in deeper. I moaned, really starting to sweat and breathing deeply. He paused to stir himself around inside me and I balled my fists, digging my nails into my palms.

“Ahh, fuck, baby,” I whined. “That feels so good…” He set me down, then gave me a strong spank, jolting me forward as I cried out. 

“You are… intoxicating, my love,” he said, breathing heavily. 

He pulled out of me and I struggled to turn around to face him. He put his arms around me and kissed me passionately, spinning us around. He swiftly picked me up and pressed me against the wall as he pushed his cock deep inside of me again. I moaned, throwing my arms around his neck and firmly wrapping my legs around his waist. He began thrusting steadily.

“So beautiful…” he purred, lips pressed against my cheek as he spoke. “You’ll always be mine, you know.”

“I know,” I breathed. I placed my hands on the sides of his head, looking deeply into his eyes. “And I always want to be.”

With a growl, he kissed me and began thrusting faster. I wrapped my arms around his neck again, this time, for dear life. My body was so hot and coursing with electric pleasure, I could barely stand it. At the same time, however, it was exhilarating and I was living for it. As we kissed, I moaned repeatedly into his mouth, unable to hold back, as I came hard, my eyes rolling back in my head. He wasn’t far behind me; growling as he came, his body shuddered against mine, pressing me hard into the wall as he slowed down. We remained unmoving for a moment, catching our breaths.

Finally, he pulled out of me and slowly let me down. We haphazardly cleaned up the imminent mess with the dining napkins and staggered upstairs. He climbed into bed and held up the covers for me. I crawled in bed on my side, facing him, and he put his arms around me. I placed my hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes.

“Thank you for hunting especially for me this time,” I told him.

“Whether from a threat or simply from the rude, I’ll always protect you, my dear,” he said, giving me a soft kiss. “There is no one more important in my life.”

I smiled and snuggled up to him. Both worn out, it wasn’t long until we were both contentedly asleep in each other’s arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr:  
> [Writing Blog](https://cannibalcorruptionwriting.tumblr.com/)  
> [Main Blog (Mostly Self Ship)](https://cannibalcorruption.tumblr.com/)


End file.
